Of Jellicle Cats and Tupperware Parties
by JemimaWeasley
Summary: (CATS) When Caitlin Walker agrees to pet-sit, she has no idea what she's getting into. PG to be safe. Complete.


_Disclaimer: CATS belongs to T.S. Eliot and Andrew Lloyd Webber. "The Count of Monte Cristo" belongs to Alexandre Dumas and whoever the publisher is. "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" belongs to J.K. Rowling. The brand name 'Tupperware' belongs to Tupperware Corp. I take no credit for and claim no ownership of any of these. Thank you._

"_**Of Jellicle Cats and Tupperware Parties"**_

"Oh, hello, Lisa; how's the family?" "Fine. I can't help but admire your lawn, who did it?"

As the sound of chatter reached my ears, I slammed my book shut, feeling the air rush out of it and smelling the scent of newsprint as I did so. Immediately hopping out of my chair, I brushed my shirt off before peering around the doorframe to the entryway below.

_Oh, yeah, _I thought, remembering what Mom had said the day before. _She's having another_ _one._ _I hate when this happens._

My name is Caitlin Walker, and I, as you just saw, love to read. I also enjoy my privacy. And Mom doesn't seem to care.

Mom loves Tupperware parties; she used to go to every one she could find…until she discovered how you hold them yourself. Now she's the one having the party. I don't like them, personally. Cheap snacks, endless droning about plastic-ware, and to top it all off, they offer every single piece they talk about for about triple what buying it at the store costs. Lucrative for the party-holder, but totally not worth attending.

But the main thing that I don't like about them is that people actually come into your house for it, and you have to entertain them while they listen to one person talk on and on and on about plastic bowls.

"Caitlin!"

_Here we go._ "Yes, Mom?"

"Will you come down here and talk to the guests while I get the stuff ready, please?"

"Sure, Mom." What could I say?

"Good girl." I thumped down the stairs and walked calmly into the living room. There were at least fifty old ladies sitting on our furniture, talking amongst themselves.  
I entered the fray and sat down on an ottoman. None of the women seemed to notice me. (That's a good thing, remember.)

_Meow. Meow._

I looked behind me to see my cat, George- or at least his tail, which was waving furiously from beneath a pile of purses and handbags. The old ladies had unknowingly buried my cat under their stuff!  
Quietly (and trying to stop myself from blowing up at the people who were abusing George…I love my kitty dearly) I uncovered him and set the bags to the side. He immediately leapt onto my lap and, even though it looked like he curled up and went to sleep, I could feel his claws digging into my jeans, holding on for dear life.

I began to wander off, absentmindedly stroking George's orange fur. Then suddenly, a voice shook me out of my stupor.

"Do you like animals, dear?"

I jerked awake, having been startled by the voice. "What?"

"Do you like animals?"

I looked behind me to see old Mrs. Fisher from down the street. She adjusted her glasses as she said, "You seem to like your cat very much."

"Oh, yes," I said pleasantly. "George is a great cat."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Then Mrs. Fisher cleared her throat before muttering, "If you are familiar with animals…"

"What?"

Mrs. Fisher pulled her glasses up her nose again before saying to me, "I'm going on vacation next week to Florida to visit my sister. And recently, I've had to take care of a lot more cats than usual…" She coughed before going on. "Well, I was hoping that if you were familiar with cats, you could pet-sit them for me. Will you?"

I had to consider. Next week was Spring Break, and I didn't _really_ want to take care of cats all week. However, I didn't have anything to do, and Mrs. Fisher would probably pay me. "I'd be glad to."

The old lady looked delighted. "Perfect! You can come over Friday afternoon, and I'll show you what you need to do for them." She glanced over towards the kitchen, where I saw my mom preparing the snacks. "Oh, look, refreshments. Thank you, Caitlin; you're a lifesaver, dear!" And with that, she walked- or rather _skipped_-over to the cookie tray.

_That's odd, _I thought. For a second, I wondered if the cats were so much trouble that she wanted to get away. Or maybe she was just happy that they didn't have to go to a kennel.

I shrugged it off and looked up to the table where Mom was starting her Tupperware party. I was already bored just looking at it all.

A week of school passed, and Friday afternoon finally came. After I got home, I practically ran down the street to Mrs. Fisher's house.

Having thought it over after the party, I decided maybe pet-sitting the cats wasn't such a bad idea. I would get more experience with animal care, have fun, and get paid. What wasn't to like? And after all, it wasn't such a big job; I could spend _some_ time with my friends too. All I had to do was feed them and keep them company for a while.

When I got to Mrs. Fisher's house, she practically pulled me inside, she seemed so happy to see me. She had her bags already packed for Florida. (I secretly wondered if she was really going to visit her sister.) "All right, I'll show you what you need to do," she said as she practically hopped through her house to the kitchen.

Opening a cupboard and pulling out a can, she said, "This is the food you should give them, plus the dry food in the pantry." She pointed to an open door nearby. "Just mix it up in the bowls." She went on to show me the cat toys, the beds, and the litter boxes. (I hoped to have as little experience with those as possible.) "Can I let them out in your back yard to let them…you know…" I said, trailing off at the end to avoid disgusting anyone.

Mrs. Fisher, who had been about to show me which bowl was which, froze on the spot. The room became uncomfortably silent. She turned around, and I noticed that she was slightly shaking. "No," she whispered. "Not under any circumstances." She moved closer to me and pushed her face close up to mine; I had to lean back to keep from colliding with the old lady. "Do you understand that, Caitlin?"

"Y...yes," I stuttered.

Suddenly the smile returned to her face, and the atmosphere went back to normal. "Now, let's introduce you to the cats," she said cheerfully. A bit weirded out, I followed her out of the room.

When we were standing in the middle of the living room, Mrs. Fisher put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. "Come out, kitties!" she called.

"Meow."

Turning around to look at a recliner behind me, I saw a cat dart out from behind it and run to the couch. "Caroline!" Mrs. Fisher said in a scandalized tone. "Come out this instant!"

But it wasn't Caroline that came out from behind the sofa; it was a silver and black tabby. After coming out a few feet, it turned back and scampered back in. A few seconds later, he came out again with the yellow and black queen called Caroline. While he walked with a prouder gait, she slunk behind, head down.

"Thank you, Rick," Mrs. Fisher said to the tom. "Caroline, you mind your manners." She then turned to me. "They've already been fed for the day; all you need to do is get to know them."

The old woman looked up at the clock and jumped back with exaggerated surprise. "Is that the _time?_ I really must be going now, Caitlin dear. Thank you so much for doing this for me." And with a quick shake of my hand, she was out the door.

"Wait!" I said, running after her. "Is that all the cats you have?"

Mrs. Fisher laughed rather forcedly. "Oh, no," she said. "There's about twenty more, lurking around the house somewhere."

"_Twenty!"_

But she had already gotten in her car and was off to the Sunshine State. _Man, that lady is fast for being seventy-something, _I thought.  
I walked back up the path, into the house. The silver tabby and his yellow friend were still standing there. Flopping down onto the couch, I muttered, "You two have more friends than _I _do." Looking at the time myself, I realized that it was dinnertime. Pulling on my jacket, I said to the cats, "I'll be back tomorrow to feed you. See you tomorrow."

They both meowed a kitty good-bye as I closed Mrs. Fisher's door.

* * *

The next morning, I headed over to Mrs. Fisher's house, figuring the cats needed breakfast. I mean, they'd been all alone since I'd left them the day before. And I was supposed to socialize with them, and all that…

All right, I was a bit scared of going over there. I knew Mrs. Fisher kept a bunch of cats already. If she'd taken in twenty more, who knows how many cats there really were? I had to face it- I was outnumbered. And cats aren't dumb animals, either. What if they didn't like me? I could be facing death by feline!

_Get a grip,_ I told myself, shaking thoughts of flying fur out of my head. _The cats aren't going to attack you. You like cats, remember?_

Sticking the key in the lock, I turned the shiny gold door handle and opened the door slowly. "Kitties?" I said meekly. "Come out, come out, wherever-"

I stood in the doorway, mouth agape.

There were cats _everywhere. _I'm not kidding. Not exaggerating, either. Cats…_everywhere._

There must have been fifty of them there; I kid you not, _fifty _cats. Cats on the sofa, cats on the armchairs, cats on the tables, cats on the floor. And what was cute is that they weren't all sleeping like cats tend to do all day. They were all interacting with each other like they were throwing a big party right in the middle of Mrs. Fisher's living room. They were playing, they were snuggling, they were doing just general cat things. And they didn't even notice me.

Hesitantly, I cleared my throat. "Um, time for breakfast?" I said in a meek voice.

The atmosphere of the room changed instantly. The cats simultaneously stopped what they were doing and looked up at me with wide, yellow eyes. I cringed. I was cat food.

Then, with one big hissy noise, the cats all dove for cover. They fled into the halls and into the kitchen. One cat that I identified as Caroline jumped a foot into the air and practically jumped under the sofa. I could see her shaking as she hid in the darkness of the underside of the couch.

Suddenly, I was standing in the middle of an empty room, with no cats in sight. A bit freaked out, I walked into the kitchen and opened a can of cat food.

About ten minutes later, I had filled ten large bowls with food and set them in their place. Standing back and staying still, I awaited the cats' return for breakfast. "Breakfast time, kitties!" I called timidly. "Come eat!"

Minutes passed. Then, I saw a small, white cat dart from the dining room to behind a potted plant. She looked warily out at me.

"It's okay," I told the cat. "Come on out."

Slowly, the white kitten slunk out from behind the fern. After sniffing the food for a long time, she took a bite and began to eat ravenously.

That one cat seemed to convince the others. They all came out, one by one, and eventually I had at least thirty of them eating at once.

_Mission accomplished, _I told myself. _On to the next thing._

* * *

Later that day, I was sitting in the living room, reading the latest chapter of an adventure novel by lamplight. (You think the cats stopped my love of reading? No way. There's time for more than one thing!) Speaking of the cats, they were scattered all over the living room, as they had been earlier.

After I served the cats breakfast, I found an envelope left by Mrs. Fisher on the counter. Inside was a list of all the cats' names and descriptions to match. (It was rather nice of her to do that when she seemed to be in such a hurry.) I had been referring to the list all day long, and I had their names almost memorized. Like, the white cat with the black spots was (of course) Spot- not to be confused with the tuxedo cat of the same colors named Franklin, or the fat cat with the same coloration named Bow-tie…

I sunk back into the plush sofa and started back up on my reading. I'd hardly gotten through a chapter, though, when I felt something soft against my arm. It was the white kitten from earlier at breakfast, coming up to sit beside me. Her friend, a black and red kitten with white on her chest sitting right beside us, meowed a greeting before falling asleep again.

I checked the name chart. _White cat….Selina._ "Your name's Selina," I said to no one in particular.

Selina meowed and adjusted her position so that she was leaning over my book. She sniffed the pages, probably smelling the sweet smell of newsprint.

"You like it?" I asked her. "It's my new favorite novel. "It's called _The Count of Monte Cristo_, and it's about a man named Edmond Dantes who's the captain of a ship, and…"

I trailed off. While I was rambling, Selina had snuggled into my lap and fallen fast asleep. I smiled. Maybe the cats liked me after all.

Careful not to disturb the white kitten, I reached down and pulled the cell phone my mom had lended me for the week. Dialing my home number, I waited for the answer and got the answering machine.

"Hi, Mom, it's Caitlin. I'm going to stay over with the cats for the night, okay? I'll be back in the morning for breakfast. Good night."

I closed the phone with a click and settled back into a resting position. Selina lifted her head and looked at me, letting out a long, low purr.

Gently lifting her and placing her down on a different section of the couch, I stretched out on the sofa, curling my legs as not to disturb the cats on the other end. Selina snuggled up next to me and fell asleep again, and I soon followed suit.

But before I fell asleep, I could have sworn I heard somebody whisper, _"We'll tell her tomorrow."_

* * *

"Caitlin? Are you all right this morning?"

I had been in a daze ever since I woke up on Mrs. Fisher's couch, with several cats on top of me. I wasn't tired; I was just thinking about the cats. Despite how much I had feared them the day before, now the cats and I seemed to have a…connection. The way they'd snuggle up exactly when you needed something soft to cuddle, how they acted like one big happy group of friends- and included me. "Yeah, I'm fine. Listen, I need to go and feed the cats. I'll be back later." As I raced out the door, I heard my mom yell, "You just got back!"

I practically flew down the sidewalk and through the door, and I rushed into the kitchen to feed the cats breakfast. They were no longer afraid; in fact, they waited at my heels for the food. I went and sat on the sofa while they ate.

As they finished, they leaped up onto the couch and sat around me, some snuggling against me and some taking a graceful position on the arms. The ones that couldn't fit sat on the floor or the armchairs. But the creepy thing was that they were all looking straight at me unblinkingly. And none of them were making a sound. That really freaked me out.

Soon enough, every cat in the house was in that one room, staring at me. Selina and Ember, the black and red kitten, were both sitting on my lap, so I couldn't see them, thankfully. I'd hate it to see either of those cute kittens looking like that.

Suddenly, the silver tabby I knew to be Rick sat up, smack in the middle of the floor. Now all the cats looked at him.

And he said, "Hello, Caitlin."

Yeah, that's right. A cat talked. To me. Yep. "Hello, Caitlin," he repeated.

Then, everything burst out. "_Rick!_" I exclaimed. "You can talk! And you're a cat!" I realized the absurdity and childishness of my statement, but I said it anyway.

The tabby rolled his eyes. (Can cats do that?) "For starters, my name isn't _Rick_," he said exasperatedly. "My name is Munkustrap."

"Monkey-what?"

"_Munkustrap_…not anything to do with an ape." He glanced around, as if he was looking for something."Come on out, Demi, she still thinks you're Caroline."

The timid yellow-and-black queen that I'd seen two days ago slowly slunk out from under a side table. Eyes darting around, she sank down into a sitting position beside Munkustrap. A bright red queen quickly trotted to her side and stroked Caroline's fur gently. "It's okay, she's not going to hurt you."

Softly, the queen muttered, "Name's Demeter."

"Good girl," said Munkustrap as the red queen led her friend away. "She's really nice when you get to know her," he assured me. "She just has…issues," he said, eyes wandering in the direction she'd gone. I decided not to ask about it now. "Her sister's Bombalurina; she's usually a lot more…_flirty_ than that, but she's been stressed out over Demi," he continued.

"Speaking of names," one queen said from the corner, "My name is _not _Jane, it's Jellylorum."

And just like that, the cats introduced themselves one by one. _So much for the list_, I thought. "Hey, Munkustrap," I said.

"Yes?"

"Some of you have rather…_odd_ names. Why?"

He contemplated that for a minute. Finally, he replied, "I suppose I have some explaining to do." He glanced around before beginning. "We- as in the cats you see right now- are the Jellicle Cats. Now, technically, all felines are Jellicles. But we use that name to refer to our particular tribe of cats.

"Now, Caitlin, have you ever heard that cats have nine lives?"

I nodded numbly, still not sure what to think about the situation.

"Well, it's true. Each Jellicle has nine lives available to them. If they are selected, they can go to the Heaviside Layer, where they are reborn into a new Jellicle life."

"So," I said, trying to fit the new information into my brain, "any of you could have lived any number of lives before the one you're in now."

"Theoretically, yes. The Heaviside Layer is complicated, though; I don't know whether you would retain memories to know how many lives you'd had…"

"You don't have to explain it if you can't," I said. "Next question- how do you get selected?"

"Our leader, Old Deuteronomy, selects. How he picks, I have no honest clue, to tell you the truth."

By now, I was a bit confused- and shaken. Mrs. Fisher's cats can talk. They're really Jellicles who are picked to be reborn by some old guy. And they've all got long, weird names.

Victoria, a.k.a. Selina, who was still sitting on my lap, said, "You never answered the question about our Second Names, Munkustrap."

"Yeah!" chimed in Etcetera, a kitten across the room who was quickly shushed by her mother Jellylorum.

Suddenly a mystical voice came out of nowhere. "May we explain, Munkustrap?" There were two cats sitting atop an armchair across the room that I hadn't seen before now. Weird.

"Jellicle Cats have three different names," began the tom, whose name I didn't know. Somewhere hidden among the furniture, I heard someone start to chant, _"The naming of cats is a difficult matter; it isn't just one of your holiday games,"_ before being quieted by another cat.

"The first name is the one used by the human family, or, in the case of strays, the name given by the feline family," continued the queen.

"The second name, the one about which you inquired, is the special name, the more dignified name."

"Such as mine- Coricopat," said the tom.

"And mine- Tantomile," said the queen. She continued, "And finally, the third name is one that only the cat knows. It is a complete and total secret- no cat would ever confess his or her third name."

"Happy to be of assistance, Munkustrap," Coricopat and Tantomile said in unison before slinking off to somewhere.

Munkustrap gave the space they had previously occupied an odd glance before returning his gaze to me. "Do you have any questions, Caitlin?" He smiled at me.

That simple gesture was the last straw for me. Frantically looking around in confusion, I couldn't say anything for a second.

"What's the matter? Do you not like us anymore?" piped up Jemima, a.k.a. Ember.

Then I exploded. "I'm sorry, I have to go," I whispered before dashing out the door.

I ran like wild back home and up the stairs to my room. Slamming the door behind me, I leaned against it, breathing in gasps. _What in the world was going on?_

* * *

I went to bed early that night. I didn't even feel like participating in our family's weekly movie night. I was too overwhelmed by the evening's…revelations.

_Cats talk. They really have nine lives. They have three names. _The facts whirled around in my head. Once or twice, I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I wasn't.

Late that night, when I was about to fall asleep and the house was dark and quiet, I heard a noise from somewhere.

_Scritch-scritch. Creak._ It sounded like my window. Still a bit paranoid from earlier, I sleepily climbed out of bed and looked over at the window.

Munkustrap was hanging onto my windowsill, trying to get the lock open on the window.

I nearly screamed. Even though he was a talking cat with three names, I didn't want him to get hurt! I flipped the latch open and pulled the window up…but how to get past that annoying metal screen?

Before I could stop him, Munkustrap rolled straight through my window, breaking the thin wire and falling unceremoniously onto my wood floor. I quickly scooped him up and set him on my bed.

"_What were you doing! You could have gotten hurt…no, killed out there! I thought cats were smarter than that!"_ I practically yelled at him.

"Hey, I resent that," he said, clearly frazzled. "Listen, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about springing all of that Jellicle stuff on you so suddenly."

I stopped pacing and looked at Munkustrap. "What?"

"I shouldn't have just presented it to you like that…I know that humans don't know that cats talk. But how else was I supposed to? You had a right to know, being nice enough to fill in for the old lady. We don't really belong to her, you know."

"You don't?" I asked. "Then who…"

"It's a long story," he said quickly, as if that ended the subject.

We were silent for a long time. Then he said, "I'd better go. It was a risk to come here and talk to you, and I don't need to stay in one place for long." Before I could ask, he'd turned towards the window and started to leave."

"Munkustrap, wait!" I cried.

"What?"

"How am I supposed to explain the window to my parents?" I pointed to the broken screen.

His face paled. "Oh, that," he muttered. "I'll get it taken care of, trust me. No one will ever see." And with that he turned and leapt out the window.

Panicking, I ran to the opening only to come face to face with the silver tabby, who was hanging onto a tree branch. I'd forgotten that a tree was right outside my window.

"Good night, Caitlin," he whispered before jumping through the tree, lighting down the trunk and disappearing in the direction of Mrs. Fisher's house.

"Good night, Munkustrap."

* * *

The next evening was pretty typical, except now I had company that would actually answer back to me. While the young kittens played and the parents watched, Victoria, Jemima, and some of the other cats listened to me read to them from "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone."

"So," began a sleek Siamese named Cassandra, "this human boy was a wizard all along?" I had just gotten to the point where Harry receives his letter.

"Yes, and the Dursleys were lying to him all along about his parents," I added. My gaze wandered over to Munkustrap and Demeter cuddling on a chair, near Bombalurina and her mate, a feisty tom named Rum Tum Tugger. Demeter had explained her story to me, and I had forgiven her for her shyness. I smiled as Demeter and Munkustrap nuzzled each other and smiled. They made a cute couple.

A few minutes after I continued reading, Jemima suddenly jumped up from her place between Victoria and Electra, another kitten. She ran as fast as her kitten legs would take her over to the large window, and nudged the curtains aside. Looking up, entranced, at the starry sky, she murmured, _"The Jellicle Moon…"_

All of the cats got very quiet. Suddenly, Munkustrap rose and joined Jemima at the window, slightly pushing her aside to make room. After a very pregnant pause, he said, "It is."

"What? What is the Jellicle Moon?" I asked rather worriedly as the cats rushed to the window to see.

The tiger-striped cat named Rumpleteazer stopped and looked at me oddly, as if that was obvious. "The night the Jellicle Moon comes out is the night we hold our Jellicle Ball!"

Her brother, Mungojerrie, jumped to her side and finished, "It's the night Old Deuteronomy chooses one cat to go to the Heaviside Layer!" Gleefully, they skipped off into the crowd.

_The Heaviside Layer!_ One of the cats was going to be reborn- I'd never see them again! What if it was Victoria, or Demeter, or Munkustrap? I loved all of them already- I wouldn't be able to bear it is one of them was to never come back.

"Wait," said Bombalurina, and everyone stopped. "We can't get out of here." Everyone turned to look at me. Slowly, I reached into my pocket…and pulled out my key to Mrs. Fisher's house.

I was holding the one thing separating the Jellicles from their Ball. I was holding the one thing keeping one of them with me.

"Will you let us go, Caitlin?" asked Etcetera quietly.

Jellylorum looked petrified. "Caitlin, you don't understand," she said shakily. "This is a Jellicle tradition carrying on for thousands of years. We _cannot_ miss it."

Munkustrap looked pained. He had done so many things to hurt me that he'd never meant to do. The situation was placed out of his control. I knew he was hurting. "Caitlin," he said, "if it's Mrs. Fisher you're worried about, she'll understand."

I couldn't take it anymore. Sinking down onto my knees and taking the silver tabby into my arms, I whispered, "I care for all of you so much…you're like my family. I…I don't want to lose any of you! One of you'll go to the Heaviside and leave forever and…I couldn't bear it if I never saw one of you again."

The cats glanced at one another. After a long pause, Munkustrap said, "Caitlin, did I ever tell you how Old Deuteronomy chooses the cat to go to the Heaviside Layer?"

I shook my head. "You said you didn't know."

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but..." He glanced at the cats around him before continuing. "He chooses- and this is the absolute truth- by whether the cat has known true happiness in their life."

That solid revelation swept through the room. I realized that the Jellicles had just learned a secret of the ages.

"Caitlin, I know that you care for me-for all of us," he said. "But if we're locked up in this house forever, we'll never be truly happy. Imagine if you were locked in your room for the rest of your life. Would you be happy?"

From behind me, Victoria's small voice piped, "And you can always visit us at the junkyard if you want!"

"_Victoria, shut up!"_ hissed Electra.

At that moment, something inside me clicked. Without saying a word, I stood up and, stepping around the cats, put the key in the lock and turned it. Taking a breath of resignation, I opened the door.

The cats flooded out in a wave of fur, and as they ran, I saw Mistoffelees jump above them and begin to sing,

"_Jellicle cats come out tonight,_

_Jellicle cats come one, come all._

_The Jellicle Moon is shining bright,_

_Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball!"_

I watched them go with a heavy heart. I knew that the next time that I saw them, if ever, one would be missing. But they couldn't live like real cats if they were holed up in an old lady's house. I'd realized in that second that if I really loved them, I would let them go. And I did.

While they were running, trying to catch up with the others, the four kittens- Victoria, Jemima, Electra, and Etcetera- turned around and waved to me. "Bye, Caitlin!" they yelled. I waved back, smiling.

The last ones out were Munkustrap and Demeter. Before they left, they stopped and smiled warmly at me. "Thank you, Caitlin," said Demeter. "You were very noble back there."

"Thank you."

Munkustrap hesitated before saying, "Demi, you go ahead, okay? Catch up with Bombalurina, and I'll meet you there." She nodded before running towards the quickly retreating group of cats.

"Vicky meant it when she said to come visit, you know," he said, laughing slightly. "It's really not as disgusting as it sounds."

I laughed too. "I'll try. My parents probably won't like the idea of spending next Spring Break in a junkyard, though."

We were quiet for a few seconds. Then Munkustrap said, "I'll miss you, Caitlin. Really, I will."

"I'll miss you, too, Munkustrap."

More silence. Then he said suddenly, "I'd better catch up with Demi." Running through Mrs. Fisher's backyard, he waved and said, "Good night, Caitlin!" Then, suddenly, he was gone.

I stayed there for a long time. Then, as I went in to collect my things, I murmured,

"Good night, Munkustrap."

Fin


End file.
